


Level Up

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Kim Mingyu, House Party, M/M, Mingyu is hot but we know, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Seungkwan is a brat, Top Boo Seungkwan, Top and Bottom Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:47:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24169825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Seungkwan has always been undeniably attracted to his hyung, Mingyu. Since Seungkwan decides to be daring, Mingyu decides to reward his efforts. Seungkwan has leveled up.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Kim Mingyu
Comments: 5
Kudos: 113





	Level Up

**Author's Note:**

> Hope everyone one is keeping safe and healthy! Please drop a comment/kudos if you enjoyed reading this fic thank you. Also why does everyone dislike bottom Mingyu?

“… what?”

Seungkwan licks his bottom lip, fingertips fretfully drumming against the back of the sofa as he remains perfectly still, petrified on the spot he had only now occupied with a nonchalant bounce.   
A nonchalance that suddenly tastes sour in his mouth, but really, he can praise no one but himself for all of this. After all, he’s the one and only moron that came up with this marvelous, outstanding, brilliant idea.

He looks at Mingyu – Mingyu’s blank, stunned, speechless face, and he wants to die.

Well.

He wants to fuck, first. And then, maybe, quite possibly, die. In that order.

“W-would you-” he stutters a second time, in case when he blurted it out first, just a few seconds ago, he didn’t make it clear enough. “I mean, would you…”

Seungkwan’s done his fair share of dumb shit through the course of that life, but sitting down by Kim Mingyu’s side in the midst of one of Hansol’s wildest parties just to ask him the impossible, well, that’s a whole new universe of sheer stupidity, even for him.

It’s not even like they know each other. Well, they know each other, of course, as in hanging out from time to time with the same group of retards, sharing a few jokes, drinking from the same can of coke once, attending the same university and possibly seeing each other at least once a week, even if only for the split of a second, but there’s truthfully nothing more to it, and Seungkwan’s already feeling the need to smash his head against something painfully hard.

He really has no one to blame but himself, this time around.

He’s the one who came up with this idea. He can’t even yell at Chan for being a heartless demon, nor throw a drink at Hansol’s laughing face without accepting defeat, because for once in his life those two fuckers have nothing to do with any of this, not even the slightest bit.   
Sure, they might as well be at the other side of that crowded room, placing bets and tossing money around at Seungkwan’s expense like they’re some sort of failed gangsters who actually do this sort of shit for a living, but there’s little to no space for outrage when you’re the source of your own undoing.

He’s the one whose brain has been stuck in a fried short circuit ever since Mingyu appeared at the doorsteps of the building, that late Friday night. He’s the one who actually dressed up for the occasion, hyperventilating like a complete idiot back at Chan’s place, up and forth across the bedroom and the bathroom and the kitchen and the living room and the bedroom once again, because “he’s single, Chan, he’s fucking single, do you even understand what it means? Do you even know how long I’ve fucking waited? Do you ever stop laughing at my pain you son of a-”

It’s not his fault that he had the worst hyung crush ever over untouchable Kim Mingyu for at least two years now, nor that Mingyu has ended things with his boyfriend three months, two weeks, four days and seventeen hours ago and that nope, Seungkwan’s totally not been counting every single passing second, or that Seungkwan’s finally feeling lucky because Mingyu’s wearing an unbuttoned jeans jacket, ungodly white skinny jeans, or that Mingyu flashed him one of his crooked, fanged smiles when he let himself casually drop close to him on that sofa, or that Mingyu’s wearing his bangs down tonight, silky chestnut locks draping on his forehead with no particular style or care, that his dark eyes seem to shine even though Seungkwan’s fully aware that the boy can handle much more alcohol than that and that he’s looking straight at Seungkwan’s face and that those parted lips seem so red now and his skin glowing in a beautiful tan sheen-

“… would you fuck me?”

The music’s loud beyond reason, beat thumping restless over the cheerful uproar of the party, yet he knows that Mingyu heard him.

Concise, blunt, outspoken.

There’s no room for courtship in Seungkwan’s mind, not after all those months wasted pining after an already taken guy that just so miraculously happened to turn single at the best time.

There’s no point wasting other precious days, months or even years trying to woo him. He’s either in, or he’s out from the start. Seungkwan needs to know it in a matter of seconds if he wants to move on with his life and actually go somewhere.

… somewhere probably being not Mingyu’s dick, judging by the blank face that his hyung is giving him now.

He watches Mingyu look back at him in absolute silence, agape, without blinking for a second at that question. Not even laughing. A scoff would be the best way out of this situation, but it doesn’t happen either. There’s literally no word or sound coming out of him.

Seungkwan looks at Mingyu and Mingyu looks at Seungkwan, both silent, frozen, unable to move, seemingly waiting for the other to add something that could resolve the whole situation but refusing to be the one doing so.

In the end, Seungkwan sighs first.

He closes his eyes, understanding his hyung’s response without the need of a proper word.

Of course it’s a no.

Of course. He should be thankful it didn’t turn out to be a what the actual fuck, a punch in the gut or a derisive laugh thrown at his face.

He stands up with a light nod of the head and excuses himself in an undertone, making sure not to turn in his friends’ direction and therefore having to witness Chan’s loud booing underneath the beat of the music, since that fucker has probably just lost a huge load of money over Seungkwan’s failure.

Only then he realizes that he’s not drunk enough for this.

-

Five minutes later, he’s already locked himself up in the bathroom for a casual piss.

He’s gulped down almost half a beer on his way to the second floor, stealing it from Moonbin’s hands right behind the corner, when the other was too busy hitting on a hot chick to care for its safety, because he needed a decent distraction to forget how he just made an ass of himself in front of his biggest crush, and yes, sure, he’s sulking, he’s feeling like shit.   
He needs much more alcohol in his system if he wants to get over that rejection as soon as possible, and if that means lonely drinking inside Hansol’s shower – maybe functioning too, why not, there’s always a chance for being overly dramatic in this sad little world –, then yes, he’s going to do it, he’s going to shove that bottle down his throat altogether, without thinking twice.

Barely holding back a burp, he wobbles closer to the door and unlocks it. He doesn’t mind one bit if his jeans are zipped or not.

The thing is, his plan was actually getting out of the bathroom and most definitely not getting pushed back in it with a shove that almost makes him stumble to the floor and spill beer everywhere.

He hits the corner of the sink with the back of his waist, painfully, before feeling the click of the door being once again shut when he just wanted it open. Having the actual chance to realize that there’s somebody in there, now, comes much later.

Hand in hand with the fact that he can’t get out.

And that it’s- well, Kim Mingyu.

“That was just too hypothetical for my taste, you know.”

No. Seungkwan doesn’t know. He doesn’t know one bit, especially now that he can see his hyung standing right in front of him, arms crossed over the chest, amused frown casting a shade of bewilderment on his face and bangs lightly swept to the side. He doesn’t know what the fuck is happening, nor why the hell his hyung would be right here, in front of the door, positively trying to prevent him from walking out on him.

“What is it? A bet?”

Seungkwan burps as reply. It’s not like he wanted to, he just couldn’t really formulate anything else.

“I saw Chan shoving cash down Hansol’s throat,” Mingyu adds, not waiting another second for a reply. “He looked pretty damn pissed off, like… you made him lose all of the savings of a lifetime.”

Seungkwan sighs. “It was their choice,” he mutters without care, while lifting the beer towards Mingyu’s face in a somewhat cheerful way. “Hansol bet you would never fuck me in a million years, Chan bet you would fuck me at least once, given the right… atmosphere, or circumstances. And by circumstances, I mean you being single after two fucking years, hyung.”

“And you agreed to make a fool of yourself? Just like that?” Mingyu’s right eyebrow arches with a glint of content sarcasm. “Christ, you’re dumb. What are you even going to get in return?”

It’s not weird that Mingyu’s asking for a proper explanation regarding the “would you fuck me?” issue.

It’s weird that he’s taken his jeans jacket off and that he’s let it drop to the bathroom floor as he steps closer. That’s fucking weird, for sure. Weird enough to make Seungkwan gasp in anticipation, yet confused beyond reason, unsure about what to think or feel, and most definitely unable to process the development of the situation.

“… your dick?” he finally mumbles, dreamingly entranced by the way that Mingyu just swept his silky bangs from his own eyes. “O-once? I mean… uhm… yeah.”

The bottle of beer rattles on the cold surface of the sink, a few seconds before winding up miraculously dropped there instead of the floor. Seungkwan’s ass pushes back against the hard edge he hit a moment ago, on autopilot, with every step that Mingyu slowly takes to close in on him.

Mingyu’s always been taller then, not painfully so, yet he’s always managed to look at least two hundred times more intimidating even just by looking at him with those beautifully sharp eyes, a firm glare that doesn’t escape Seungkwan’s embarrassed glance; it never escapes, no matter the situation; it pierces through his soul, dominating his every breath.

“My dick,” Mingyu whispers, suddenly so close that Seungkwan can feel the soft caress of those words tracing his jaw. “Once. Ask me again,” he demands, almost threatening in his own amused way.

“What.”

“That question,” he presses, by pressing Seungkwan against the sink too.

Seungkwan can’t gulp. “If you… I mean, if you would-”

“Cut the fucking conditional, Seungkwan.”

Hyperventilating’s not supposed to be the plan. But not even stuttering, for sure. “Would- w-will you… ever… f-fuck me?”

“I have a much better idea.”

Seungkwan’s cheeks burst into flames the moment he can feel Mingyu’s fingers curling on to the open zip of his jeans, and a truly embarrassing whimper escapes his lips when he’s pulled towards the other with a sudden jerk, hips brushing unexpectedly against hips.

“… you… can fuck me,” Mingyu moans at the corner of Seungkwan’s open, gasping mouth, as his hand pushes over the elastic band of the boxers. He smirks. “Against that door. No conditional whatsoever.”

The echo of the loud thumping music’s muffled underneath the light snap of a button being undone, down between their bodies, and Seungkwan has by now lost the ability to swallow his own spit. His throat is dry, tight, clenched by chocking expectation, as his heart beats restless against his ribcage like it wants to burst out of there and explode into a million pieces.

“Only a brat like you could come to me asking for something like this,” Mingyu hisses, while guiding Seungkwan’s hand towards his own crotch and inviting him to squeeze, “and then leaving me there, without even letting me know if you were joking or not. You’re a tease, and you’re disgustingly cute, and maybe I don’t know why but tonight I really want you to show me that you mean it,” he groans, not an inch away from the other’s lips, pressing their bodies together in a way that almost has Seungkwan bent over the sink with a shudder of uncontrolled pleasure.  
“You can’t throw a pebble into the water and not expect a few ripples. So what do you say. Wanna… fuck me?” he breathes against his mouth, inviting beyond human decency.

Yes, Seungkwan screams at the top of his lungs, not a sound escaping his throat other than the wet lick of the tongue he’s already pushing in Mingyu’s mouth, as their parted lips clash together with an unplanned but inevitable messy kiss.

Fucking yes, he knocks the bottle of beer into the sink the moment he finally gets back to his senses and he’s able to react.

Mingyu moans when he feels him taking control, a sound warm and desirable that electrifies Seungkwan’s spine in a matter of seconds, and resisting from pushing him back against any sort of surface becomes impossible.

He charges, hands firmly clutched around Mingyu’s waist while he drags and knocks him against the unlocked door of that bathroom. It’s a harsh slam and it has their teeth crashing against each other with a painful sting, but that’s still not enough to force their lips apart.

In some sort of way, Seungkwan knew Mingyu had this in him.

He knew that his hyung could be wild, demanding, tough to handle yet rough in the best way.

He just never knew that his wish could become true this easily, after nothing more than an embarrassingly stuttered question.

“You should have told me sooner,” Mingyu breathes from kiss to kiss, gliding up against the frame of the door as Seungkwan pushes him with his whole body. “I’m… a bitch for spoiled little brats like you…”

Seungkwan can barely hold back a sob when a hand finds its way through his ruffled locks and yanks them so hard that he can see stars.

“… you were already taken,” he groans, now pissed off by that sharp sting of pain.

“Four months. I’ve been single for four fucking months, Seungkwan.”

“I thought you hated brats,” and he reaches for the inside of Mingyu’s pants, gladly sighing at the way he can feel his hyung shudder as soon as he grabs his dick.

“I hate brats that don’t make a move,” Mingyu pants, biting his reddened bottom lip for the few slow but hard strokes that make him reach full erection. “But you made your move,” he finally surrenders to the touch, gasping mouth pressed close to Seungkwan’s ear for him to hear, “now… show me what you got,” so he moans, hand tightly wrapped around Seungkwan’s clothed dick. “Show me you mean it.”

Seungkwan hopes that shutting him up with his own mouth can be a good start.

He also hopes that Mingyu doesn’t mind if he didn’t come here prepared.

“I don’t have a condom,” he slurs, pulling back just enough to make it clear.

“… do I look like it’s a fucking problem?” Mingyu almost yanks his pants down.

Seungkwan crashes into him one last time, breathless laugh smothered by frantic and hungry kisses, to give up any sort of remaining afterthought the moment he feels those arms wrapping around his back, keeping him tight, still, pressed against a heated chest. He wants to undress him.   
He wants to feel him, skin against skin, but other than pulling his own jeans down and letting them hurriedly drop to the floor, Mingyu doesn’t seem in the mood to strip completely or waste any time trying to do so. He struggles to get his own feet out of that tangle, because apparently he doesn’t want to turn around and let Seungkwan have his way with him. No. He wants to face him, and he’s adamant about it.

Their movements are drunk and clumsy, as they jerk each other off.

While trying to pull Mingyu’s left thigh high enough, Seungkwan accidentally slams his elbow over the light switch and they both immediately drop into absolute darkness.

“No,” Mingyu groans, annoyed, blindly trying to find the switch. “Fuck- no, I want to see you,” he scrambles to press it, all but easy since for a few seconds they both can’t see shit. “I want to… I want to remember you,” are the words that Seungkwan sees drop from those swollen lips, the moment his sight comes back along with the subtle buzzing of the light bulb above, as Mingyu’s dark eyes, clouded by desire, meet him with a final glare.

“W-what for?” he stutters, forcing himself not to kiss him too aggressively and grinding his crotch against Mingyu’s hard dick. He tries his best to make him moan just a little louder, but his hyung’s still too much in control for that.

A slow lick on his lips. “… jerk off material, because you’re some hot thing.”

And Seungkwan doesn’t hold back. He kisses him eagerly, and he presses his hips hard enough to bruise Mingyu’s skin with the rough fabric of his jeans, elated by the high-pitched sound that’s gifted him in return.

It’s perfect like this, dick brushing against dick between their clutched fists, yet it’s not even close to enough. It could be more. It could be even better, and he knows it the moment Mingyu escapes his hungry bites with a sudden hiss, bringing index and middle finger to Seungkwan’s mouth with a soft but despotic push.

“Suck,” he orders.

He’s still making eye contact with that sharp glare when Seungkwan finally opens his mouth to let those two slim fingers in, against his tongue. Seungkwan’s so turned on right now that he almost hopes for Mingyu to fuck his mouth with those digits, maybe preparing him for something much harder before effortlessly pushing him down to his knees, but the latter has a whole different idea.   
He lets Seungkwan take only one long suck, coating them in saliva, before he drags them out, down to that moist bottom lip, the chin, and finally much much further below, passing their throbbing dicks, to reach unexplored land. Well. Unexplored for Seungkwan, for sure. But not for much longer, considered the situation.

Seungkwan’s positive he won’t last even three minutes, tonight, when he feels the first chocked sob fluttering close to his gaping mouth, a hurt sound tainted by the dirtiest pleasure. Mingyu’s wrist moves slow, trapped between their hot bodies, and his right leg lifts, trying to latch on to Seungkwan’s waist, a movement that Seungkwan himself comprehend right away as he firmly grabs his hyung’s thigh to sustain its weight.

Mingyu pushes his own fingers deeper inside, grimacing a little with understandable discomfort, but doesn’t hold back. He fucks himself with his own fingers as if he has done this hundred of times before, underneath the firm pressure of Seungkwan’s now aching body. He tries to work himself open as fast as possible, bringing the hand back up only a second to spit on his own fingers and try to lubricate them even more, then he lets his head knock back against the frame of the door and sighs.

“It’s… it’s been a while,” he mutters, as he bends the neck to the side with a silent invite.

Seungkwan has to hold back a scoff. “… seriously?” he asks, sardonic, but he digs his fingers in Mingyu’s firm buttock with increasing impatience. “What, a few months?”

“More like… almost… two years, I think?”

No.

No fucking way, Seungkwan stops biting him, so shocked that he can’t even pull away or at least try.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” he shouts out in the end, hand now wrapped even harder around Mingyu’s dick as a consequence.

To his own surprise, Mingyu laughs at him.

“… you know how fucking frustrating it is… to never get a good fuck, because your boyfriend’s a whiny little bitch that always wants to take it in the ass, even when you’re begging for it?” he chuckles, then moans, cussing in an undertone as his own thrusts become uneven, erratic.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I can’t believe it. I can’t.”

A snicker. “Can you blame me?”

“No,” he breathes, low, hungrily nuzzling Mingyu’s perspired neck as he pushes his legs further apart and tries to stop those tempting thrusts. “But I can most definitely fuck you,” he promises, guiding the tip of his dick close to the other’s fingers, and Mingyu groans deeply as soon as he gets it. “Just tell me how you like it.”

“O-only this time,” he mutters in reply, seemingly trying to lift up some of their slippery boundaries.

“Nah. I’m pretty damn positive I’ll want to fuck you even next time,” Seungkwan chuckles.

Mingyu smiles, but bites his bottom lip. “… next time? Wow. So full of yourself. You’re really a brat, aren’t you.”

“Shut up…” he hisses, ready to catch his swollen lips in another kiss. He finally manages to push those fingers away “… you want this? Then shut up, and just let me fuck you.”

Mingyu doesn’t listen and most definitely doesn’t shut up.

On the contrary, his jaw drops as a loud sob escaping his throat, the moment Seungkwan pushes harder against him, forcing him to glide up the door, and up, more and more, thigh slightly quivering underneath clutched fingers, tense, wrapped around his waist with the promise of not letting go.

“Oh god-” Mingyu cries, body turning to stone for a few seconds as he pushes against the intrusion of Seungkwan’s hard dick, yet sufficiently long enough to make Seungkwan question if he’s even going to enter him enough to call it a fuck.

He kisses him one more time, stealing every moan away with a slow push, with every inch he manages to gently thrust inside him, until he can’t but curse just like Mingyu did because damn next time they need much more lube, this is fucking painful.

Rustling clothes, the muffled creak of the wooden door, music thumping loud from the floor below. A hurt but satisfied groan, soon chocked by Seungkwan’s mouth as he shuts Mingyu up with a deep kiss. Arms grasped around shoulders, sweaty fingers locked between ruffled strands of hair, pulling, tugging, yanking with impatience.

It’s messy, and awkward, but somehow it works anyway.

It takes Seungkwan more than a couple of thrusts to get the hang of it and to stop hissing in discomfort at the lack of proper lubrication. It’s not much, but it’s enough. Mingyu lets him know by unevenly breathing out a curse against his neck, and by immediately begging for more.

More, he scoffs, biting hard on his bottom lip as he slams him against the door and tries his very best to fuck him deeper. He’s sweating so much, since he’s doing his very best to lift Mingyu’s thigh just a little higher, and it’s not helping in the slightest.

Fuck this position, he growls in the end, while angrily kissing the life out of Mingyu, tongue against tongue, joined like their sweaty and somewhat still clothed bodies.

It may be the hottest thing he’s ever done, but he’s just not good enough for this.

By the way that alcohol and excitement have made him lightheaded, dizzy beyond expectation, he’s pretty self-confident of the fact that he can’t go on like this much longer, or even as long as he wanted. He tries to thrust deep inside him, one push at a time, but this fuck’s already starting to get more frustrating than it’s supposed to be, much harder, tedious and exasperating. He feels it in the way that Mingyu’s fingers scratch his back, in his moans and held back whispers. He knows that his hyung’s feeling it too.

Then it happens.

The door opens.

The unlocked door behind Mingyu’s back suddenly opens, pushed by somebody who needs to use the bathroom for something that’s supposedly not fucking, and the obvious unfolds.

They fall, shoved away by the firm push of said door, a mess of libs and rustling clothes tangled together, freefalling like a castle of cards suddenly nudged to the ground by a blow of wind.

“Is somebody in here?” asks a piss drunk voice, on the other side of the now ajar door, as soon as the loud thump of their bodies hit the floor.

It’s Seungkwan’s right foot, now lifted by reflex against the squeaking jamb with a spasm of pain, what stops the door from opening altogether.

“For the love of- yes, get out,” he immediately growls, voice dark, strangled, chocked by the mixture of numbness and pain he can feel darting through his spine.

Mingyu’s mouth gasping widely, a few inches away from his face, as the click of the door signals its closure.

“… o-ouch.”

Seungkwan grunts. “… yeah…”

“Hurt?”

“I think my dick just broke in half.”

Mingyu looks at him for a few seconds, dark hooded eyes going soft before glimmering with a spark of content deviousness. “… your dick feels just fine,” he chuckles, ready to catch Seungkwan’s lips in another kiss.

Sweaty and now slightly trembling, Seungkwan’s hands move from the pedestal of the sink – the first thing they managed to grab after the fall, other than slipping down the cold surface of the shower – to reach for the naked ass that’s still sat on top of his crotch. His head hurts, but he can deal with it if it means he’s still able to get it and keep it up.

Mingyu lifts himself enough to sit comfortably on that excruciatingly hard dick, hips spread wide as he tries to pull himself together and straddle Seungkwan’s waist with a look that promises the best orgasm ever, and starts moving on his own, uncaring about the fact that now they’re both on the floor. As a matter of fact, he seems to be enjoying this even more.

In a much different state of mind, Seungkwan would have let him have it his own way.

But not tonight. Not when Mingyu demanded to be fucked like a boy, after two years of apparently unresolved frustration through the course of an even stable relationship, by looking so damn eager of finally having a dick up his ass.

So Seungkwan grabs him, pulls him down for a heated kiss, rises his hips to toss him to the side, and he finally throws him on the floor.

Mingyu startles for a second, unable to see what could be going through the other’s mind, but his sharp breath transforms into a soft moan the moment he feels Seungkwan’s body on top of his, trapping him against the side of the shower with a deceitful chuckle.

“… much better,” Seungkwan whispers close to those parted, gasping lips. He feels Mingyu’s legs tensing up around his waist with a shudder of pleasure. His own dick slides deeper inside, much easier, smoother, as he starts to hasten the pace.

“-god-”

“Just call me Seungkwan,” he whispers back, seductively, not even bracing himself for the rightful punch that might break his nose in half.

“Oh you fucking brat,” Mingyu growls, head lolling back as he moans louder with every deep thrust that trashes him on the floor. “You fucking piece of--- yes-”

Seungkwan fucks him like this is the first but last time.

Because he truthfully doesn’t know, now, if he’s ever going to have a chance to hold Mingyu again.

In this very moment, all of his wildest dreams are right here, underneath his own heated, panting chest, with every restrained groan that echoes close to his right ear and strong arms that clutch onto his back for dear life, clinging on to him with every slick, deep, hard thrust. Seungkwan doesn’t hold back, his mind is a blur.

He fucks him hard, setting his own pace and hoping that Mingyu can keep up with it, because he’s not slowing down, he’s not going to be nice, or sweet, or any sort of tender.   
He’s not going to be the loving boyfriend that his hyung deserves, when all he wants and seeks in him is the sharp and painful edge of a mind-blowing orgasm; a climax so hard and fast, so freaking unavoidable, that he wants to hear all of it, he wants Mingyu to let it out, be open, and vocal, just enough for him to know that he’s doing a good job, that he’s great, amazing, that he’s not only any other brat fucking him out of desperation.   
He begs for it, but doesn’t ask. He shuts his mouth, sinking his teeth in his hyung’s neck with a hungry, painful bite, hoping to bruise it, and Mingyu finally complies.

“… Seungkwan,” he calls him, a moan darkened by the unmistakable liquid pleasure coming his way. His breath shakes, and it’s not because of those restless thrusts that push him against the cold tiles of the bathroom floor.

It’s like something flicks in his mind.

It takes that quivering call, only that, the sound of his own name, to make Seungkwan snap.

He lifts himself to look at Mingyu’s disgustingly hot flushed face while he rams into him, grabbing a handful of skin as he plunges his fingers on the inside of Mingyu’s warm thigh and forces it to open even more, make room for his sharp, deep, impatient thrusts.   
He fucks him harder and he bites down his bottom lip to keep as much control as possible, now reaching out for his own only pleasure. Mingyu feels the hastening of those thrust like he’s been waiting for it all of this time, and the hands that he’s kept clutched on to Seungkwan’s back finally begin to slip down, towards those snapping hips.

“Seungkwan,” he deeply groans, strangled by the chocking coil of pleasure building inside him, underneath the sound of their frantic short breaths, the distant roaring of the music and the loud smacking of skin against skin, followed only by the rustling of clothes and tingling of unfastened belts.   
“Seungkwan… please,” Mingyu begs, and Seungkwan doesn’t know what the fuck he’s even begging for at this point, if for him to go faster, or slower, or for a kiss, maybe a spank.

“… I’m close,” he only replies, spitting it almost angrily, as he fucks him without mercy, like he’s ready to break him just to make him finally come undone on that floor.

There’s no need for words, he knows that Mingyu’s close too.

Seungkwan can feel him stroking his own dick between their bucking hips, not even jerking off, only lightly tugging its red tip from push to push, as if he doesn’t plan to rub his orgasm out the easy way and he’s waiting for something bigger and stronger to come. Mingyu’s eyes are firmly shut, now, swollen lips glistening with spit, parted between heated, shaky breaths. His previously silky chestnut bangs jump back and forth on his perspired forehead, lonely strands wetting with salty sweat.

“You’re hot, hyung,” Seungkwan murmurs in an almost voiceless undertone.

Mingyu’s eyes open, gleaming for the rising heat that’s crackling underneath his flushed skin, meeting his for the split of a second before Seungkwan lowers himself to capture that gasping mouth.

“You’re so… hot,” he repeats, just a little louder, secure, while nibbling that lower lip and taunting him with the promise of a kiss. “… you’re so… so… so fucking hot, Mingyu.”

Warm spurts of cum hit the front of his shirt before he has the chance to realize that Mingyu has come.

Mingyu’s scream comes later, after his back arches from the floor, his head falls back, exposing the white, sweaty full curve of his neck, and his mouth opens in a silent breathless cry that lasts almost the whole length of that climax, finding voice only after its painful peak.

“-side me,” Mingyu moans loudly, croaky, muscles tensing and squeezing Seungkwan’s dick even harder with every shudder. “Come inside me,” he repeats, out of breath, “please.”

It takes only the fingers of that hand grabbing the soft skin of his ass, and Seungkwan’s hips stutter forward with a few erratic thrusts, as he ruthlessly fucks one of his loudest orgasms inside Mingyu’s quivering thighs.

For almost half of the following minute, he can barely breathe or move. He looks down, underneath his own ruffled, disarranged and sweaty bangs, struggling to gulp when he meets Mingyu’s exhausted but sated dark eyes.

He should kiss him, yet his mind goes blank all over again.

“… go out with me,” he finally demands instead, with the same shaky voice that Mingyu just used to ask him to fill him with cum, as if there’s no other possible way out of this.

The scoff of a careless laugh is not what he expected.

“With a… fucking noisy brat like you?” Mingyu snorts. “And what would I get in return?”

Seungkwan wrinkles his nose, then he flashes him a cunning grin. “The hottest boyfriend ever?”

Mingyu tugs him down for a kiss, naked legs now playfully wrapped around Seungkwan’s waist.

“… not until we learn to lock a door, idiot.”


End file.
